


A Tomb With a View

by SpuffyCarrie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy In Love, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Light Dom/sub, Outdoor Sex, Rough Sex, Swearing, Trick or Treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpuffyCarrie/pseuds/SpuffyCarrie
Summary: On Halloween night, Draco and Hermione take a detour from the festivities at the behest of a horny Draco. What happens when they come across some ghostly happenings related to Draco in a way he never expected? Can they manage to escape the ghostly wretches and save the local muggles from their ire, or will the amazing team of Draco and Hermione find themselves with a problem they can’t solve this time?
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22
Collections: Pumpkin Spice Fic Fest





	A Tomb With a View

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [PSpiceFicFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PSpiceFicFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Hayloft - Flannel shirt
> 
> Thanks so much to the Mods from the Pumpkin Spice Fest for all their hard work in putting this together. I’m so happy to be included and I hope you enjoy my one-shot.  
> Thank you to the wonderful @riverrr on Ao3 for her hard beta work on this and for getting arms and legs put in the correct place <3  
> Also huge thanks to the amazing @samadiw for my gorgeous aesthetic <3

"Tell me why we're doing this Muggle tradition again?" Draco whined, frowning at himself in the mirror in the hallway of their shared cottage outside Dinton, Wiltshire.

When Draco and Hermione’s relationship developed, post war, it was upon the understanding that Hermione would never set foot in Malfoy Manor again and it was an agreement Draco took very seriously.

Five years later found them living in a quiet Muggle village near his ancestral home, with both flooing to work in London during the week.

"Because the local children enjoy it and I like to be part of the muggle community, even if you don't."

Hermione was dressed up in a witch’s outfit and she had persuaded Draco to dress, begrudgingly, as Count Dracula. She thought he looked kind of hot with his hair charmed black and in his sexy outfit.

She placed her half-read book on the side - _A local history of Dinton and other Wiltshire Towns._ She still wandered around with her nose in a book and tonight was no different.

“I never said that; Halloween just has a different meaning for us,” he gave one last preen and came up behind Hermione. His fingers drifted under her skirt, caressing the silky material of her stockings. "Mmm, you're wearing those green lace knickers again, I just know it."

She slapped him away before he reached the apex of her thighs, which didn't deter him one iota, as he then plucked at the low neckline of her black dress with a long, slender finger,

"Are you wearing the matching bustier? Or are you naked under there, hmm? Why don't we stay here, and I'll just fuck the Halloween out of you, my sexy little witch?"

Hermione shivered as his voice caressed the sensitive shell of her ear. Good Godrick, what the man could do with his voice was positively sinful.

"No. I will not be seduced, not when I have a whole bucket of sweets to rot the teeth of every child in the village," she said with determination.

"Ah, so that's your dastardly plan, Granger, drumming up business for your parent’s tooth fixing practice, very shrewd my love, very shrewd."

"Ugh, you get on my fifth nerve when you're like this,” she replied, “I told you not to eat too many sweet’s, and now you’re like an unrestrained Niffler in a dragons treasure hoard. Look, let’s just go," she wiggled out of his grip, "you may have your surprise when we get home," she said coyly, securing the strap on her heeled boots.

Sliding her hand along her stockinged calve seductively, she looked up to see Draco following her hand with his eyes just as she hoped. Satisfied that his look was almost feral, she stood and placed a witch’s hat over curly locks.

"Now, be a good boy and charm your teeth. There's no point in being Dracula without them."

Draco sighed dramatically but did as he was told and took out his wand, transforming his canines into razor sharp fangs.

"I vant to suck your blood," he hissed, holding clawed hands over her head menacingly, like she’d told him to. He had no idea of the meaning, but he was intent on making his witch happy.

"Be that as it may, Draco, there'll be plenty of time for that later. Just be patient my little exsanguinator. If you're good, perhaps I'll let you bite me," she gave him a sultry wink.

"There is nothing good about me Granger, as you well know," he took a step closer, trailing his fingers across her collarbone, though he wanted to take a bite out of her peachy arse, "I will feast on you when we get home and I can guarantee you will love it," his tongue lathed his lower lip and he was happy to see her eyes glaze over.

Draco knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until later to at least taste his witch. Surely there would be some dark alley or place well away from prying muggle children and parents he could give her one in peace?

Hermione shoved a Hurricane lamp into his hand containing a black candle and he followed her with a reluctant huff.

….

Hermione walked happily around the streets enjoying the atmosphere of Halloween. It was a local tradition in the sleepy village that everyone joined in the festivities together and handed out sweets to the children.

“Aren’t they just darling?”

Hermione gushed as she handed out sweets to tiny children dressed in a myriad of Halloween outfits. A girl dressed as the cutest witch she had ever seen, gave her a shy smile and thanked her for the sweeties.

Draco peered down at them all hoarding sweets like, in his opinion, a kettle of vultures circling for scraps.

“If you say so,” he drawled with obvious distain, “though in my opinion, this type of behaviour is called begging.”

“Hey, Mister!”

A small boy wearing a pirate’s costume waved to garner Draco’s attention who towered over him.

Draco looked to Hermione, who was highly amused, and back to the boy with a raised eyebrow.

“Trick or treat?” The boy tried, not knowing who he was up against.

“Neither, as I have no tricks fit for your eyes and my lovely girlfriend has all the treats.”

The boy scowled, hauled his leg back and kicked Draco in the shins.

“You’re a shit vampire anyway!” Pirate boy stood back with a look of evil delight.

“Quite.” Draco held in a gasp of pain and pursing his lips, not wanting to give the child the satisfaction, though he quite liked the boy, he reminded him of himself.

“Granger, how long do we have to deal with these little morons? They wouldn’t know a real witch if they fell over one,” he scowled.

A burly parent holding the hand of one of the children dressed as a fairy, stepped forward menacingly,

“What was that you were saying about morons, mate?”

"I am not your mate, you overgrown oaf!” Draco snarled back, his fangs glistening in the orange pumpkin fairy lights which hung along the street.

The man took a step back fearfully,

“Millie, we’re going home!”

He picked up his crying daughter and strode away. The other children screamed and ran away too.

“Draco, for Merlin’s sake, was that really necessary?” Hermione stomped, placing one hand on her hip, and rattling the sweet bucket in his face.

“Can’t we go home now?” Draco complained.

“No, we cannot, and for that display we will stay out until all the sweets are gone!” Hermione marched away, storming ahead past the local churchyard.

Draco rolled his eyes and wondered when this torture would ever end.

“Wait! Granger, I’m sorry, I’ll behave, I could eat them all and then we could go home?” He tried, earning himself a venomous look from Hermione.

Draco paused at the gates to the cemetery, a sneaky idea forming. Climbing up on the low wall surrounding it, he swiftly caught up with Hermione.

“Then let’s live a little. I dare you to shag me in the churchyard,” he smirked.

“Draco, that is highly immoral and disgusting. Would you like someone to shag on your grave?”

“Personally, I know I wouldn’t give a fuck as I’d be dead. Nor would I deign to be buried in a muggle churchyard,” he said snootily. “You did note I mentioned the word, dare?”

Hermione huffed. There had been an ongoing challenge between them whereby if one was challenged by the other, unless it was reckless or dangerous, then they had to complete the dare or risk a forfeit. 

The two had made a drunken, unbreakable vow one night with Theodore Nott of all people as the third party. Everyone knew he was a damn menace about practical jokes.

Contemplating this, she sighed deeply, “What’s the forfeit?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I should have you dance naked in the village square?”

“That is totally out of order, I will never do that!”

“Then you’ll take the dare I presume?” Draco replied slyly. He had contemplated daring her to marry him, but it seemed somewhat gauche.

Hermione sighed in exasperation and screwed up her face, “Alright, but make sure no one is recently dead, it gives me the willies.”

Draco chuckled; he would give her the willies alright, or just one hard one.

The church gate squealed open like something out of a horror film when Draco shoved it open. He held up the lamp and gestured for her to enter the ancient graveyard.

“You’ll pay for this, Malfoy, don’t think you won’t!” She scoffed, charging past him.

He looked around to check no one was around and followed her into the darkness, his vampire’s cloak rustling in his wake. 

....

"Ouch, there are brambles poking in my bum," Hermione complained, wriggling as Draco attacked her neck with fervid kisses. 

"I'll cast a cushioning charm my love," he took out his wand and muttered the spell. "Sweet Salazar, you're so fucking hot, Granger. Don't you like how it's a little bit dangerous shagging here? We could get caught at any time, doesn’t that turn you on?" He smirked with a raised eyebrow. 

"No, ugh, not at all. I just can't, I'm sure there's ivy poking in my ear and let me tell you that feels like the most unsexy thing ever."

Draco whispered in her other ear, "Surely having me in your other ear more than makes up for it?" He tugged at her earlobe with his teeth, hooking his arms under her legs and lifting her. 

Hermione yipped and wrapped her legs around his waist, "W-What are you doing?" 

He nipped at her neck, "I'm Count Dracula and I take my satisfaction wherever I like, my darling victim," he growled, hoisting her upon a crumbling tomb which, in Hermione's mind wasn't much better than the damp ground. 

Regardless, Hermione experienced a shiver down her spine, she loved it when he was like this, so bloody masterful.

Magical tension crackled between them as her eyes locked with his, his mercurial, hungry look consuming her. 

"Hermione," her name was uttered on sinful lips, "I'm going to shag you right here on this tomb. You're going to take every inch of me and fucking love it."

He pushed her knees back, reaching down for the lantern and placing it by her head, "I want to see you when you come," he uttered, trailing his lips over her heaving breasts, his hands trailing down between her breasts to the apex of her thighs. 

His intimate touches had her tensing in anticipation, the previous bad start to their lovemaking instantly forgotten. 

"Oh, Godrick, don't tease," she begged at the litany of sensations he caused as with devastating touches, her body on fire.

"I love you like this, " he caressed her face, his thumb slipping inside her mouth, "love it when you suckle me, fuck, what did I do right in this life to get to have you like this my petite sorcière?" 

She gasped, her brain going into overdrive as his deft fingers entered her pussy, his thumb lazily stroking her clit. "Oh, god, please," she reached for the raging bulge in his pants. 

Draco grasped her chin, "My eyes are up here, don't you dare look—" His eyes darted above her head in horror and he dropped his hand from her crotch,

"Hermione, don't panic, but, um, there are three terrifying looking ghosts behind your head. They, err, they look pretty pissed-off." 

Hermione rushed to pull her dress down and scampered from the stone, grabbing her wand. 

There was a horrifying cackle as Hermione took in the three witches, dressed in black with rope marks around their necks, their hair flowed around their heads like the snakes of medusa and purple light glowed around them as they floated in the starlit sky above the grave. 

Draco barely took his eyes off the spectres.

These were no ghosts like one might find at Hogwarts, friendly or playful or perhaps a little sinister but not terrifying and fucking angry at being disturbed. He took a risk and glanced at the tomb, noting the name and date of the deaths of the three ghosts. 

Demelza, Estrild and Petronilla Black, died 1630 on the hanging hill, Dinton. 

"Who dares’t disturb our slumber?" The black-haired witch shrieked, hovering several feet above the ground. 

Hermione took a step back, the resemblance between this witch and Bellatrix Lestrange was uncanny and it wasn't a welcome similarity at all. 

"Who is it? Who dares’t wake us, Estrild?" A plumper grey-haired witch pushed the first witch aside.

"The boy is pretty," a smaller and younger blonde witch giggled, peeking from behind them. 

"Dearest Demelza, he is a desecrator, a disgusting man. He is filth who defiles a young woman upon our resting place. We shall endeth him!" 

"Shall we Petronilla? It sounds like such fun, but he possesses a beauty beyond compare," the grinning young witch replied.

Hermione glanced at Draco, elbowing him in the ribs as he gave the young witch an arrogant, sexy wink. 

"Fuck, Granger, I'm just trying to calm the situation," he hissed in pain. He knew Hermione was accusing him with flirting with long dead witches.

"Hush, dear 'Elza, you are too young to understand such things!" The witch they now knew as Estrild, chided, "see how he lures’t young virgins, strutting like a peacock."

She scrutinised him with a sneer. 

Hermione stepped back, almost knocking Draco over and treading her spiked heel on his toe. 

"Fuck!" He howled as the stiletto pierced the leather of his expensive Italian shoe. 

The Bellatrix-like lead witch, stepped forth, "He is a pig, do you not hear his language before pureblood witches? He can only be a peasant!" 

"Oi! Watch who you're calling a peasant, you provincial plebeian. I'm not the one who’s buried in a muggle churchyard!" Draco wished he hadn't opened his mouth as soon as he did. Fed up with being smacked and pierced, he had lost his temper and along with that, any delicacy he possessed. 

The aura of the phantasmagoric witches turned red and the wind picked up as they muttered amongst themselves, a sense of foreboding surrounding them as they drifted towards Draco. 

Hermione lifted her wand and pointed it towards them. "I'm warning you, do not come any closer!" 

They began to swirl and undulate, their shrieks becoming louder, throwing up a whirlwind of dead leaves and detritus, causing Draco and Hermione to shield their faces. 

"Um, Draco, I don't like this." Hermione called from within the maelstrom, her curls whipping about her face.

He pulled her behind him protectively, his arm on her waist. Even though he knew his girlfriend was a formidable witch, he pointed his wand at the ghosts. 

"Confringo!"

His spell hit the ground below them, spraying mud and grass onto the air as he grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her behind him. 

Hermione ran, trying to meet her long-legged boyfriends’ pace, slinging spells and hexes behind her,

"Alarte Ascendare!"

She threw a broken headstone into the air. It smashed on the ground and made no difference to the witches chasing them through the air.

"Avis!"

She cried, waking birds in the trees surrounding the cemetery and sending them flocking towards the screaming ghouls to aid their escape. They weren't so foolish to think it would stop them, but it would give them time. 

"Come on, this way, quickly!" Draco hissed, scooping his hands for her to place her foot at the dilapidated stone wall that backed off onto farmland, he urged her to climb.

She scrambled over the wall, her stockings ripping and catching on the rough rock. She sucked in a deep breath as she cut her knee. 

Holding her hand out she pulled him over, hearing his cloak rip as he swung his leg over the wall. 

"Does’t thou think you can escape us, boooy? We will have our vengeance; you will pay for defiling the girl!"

The witch screamed from the other side of the wall.

"We will wait for thou! We will damn thou! Your souls will be ours!" 

Hermione flinched and ducked. The witch reminded her of the dusty Dumbledore ghost that scared the living shit out of her, Harry, and Ron in Grimmauld Place, dissipating quickly, much as the old Headmasters visage once did. 

Draco sat on the damp earth of the fallow field they found themselves in, breathing heavily. 

"What in Merlin’s mouldy socks happened there?" He shook his head, reaching out to clasp Hermione's hand. 

"All I can say, " Hermione gasped for breath as she got to her knees and peered over the wall, "is that they don't look like they're going anywhere soon."

The witchy spectres were still there floating angrily, but thankfully contained inside the remit of the churchyard. 

She scanned the land behind them. 

"We have to do something. We can't leave them like there for some poor muggle to stumble across. Anyway, you're an utter prat! Who called them plebs? Where was your bloody Malfoy charm when it was needed?" 

"Oh, so it's my fault now? Thanks ever so. I think you forgot the moment where you were all, oh god Draco, please. You didn't have any complaints when my fingers were inside you," he tutted. 

"And who dared me to go in there, knowing I couldn't say no, or I'd be dancing naked in the town square? Blah, blah, blah! Why are these dares so important to you?" 

He sighed, looking towards a barn to the left of the field,

"Look, it's just been our thing for so long it comes naturally. Please my love, I don't want to fight. Let's regroup over in that barn over there and decide what to do next. Aren't you cold? I know I'm feeling chilly."

He stood and pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead remorsefully. 

They stumbled through the empty field in silence, their feet crunching through frosty ground, a distant bark from a fox in the distance the only sound. 

…

Draco stared around the empty barn, spotting the hay bales stored on the level above. 

"Up you go, we'll rest a bit and perhaps we could, hmm…?" He raised an eyebrow while wetting his lips. He wanted to fuck her even more now, the adrenaline sending his blood running hot.

"I just wanted a nice night, just wanted to be a part of something wonderful, and all you think about is your cock!" She huffed. 

He gathered her into his arms, nuzzling the crown of her head. "Not true, I often think about your c—" 

"Do not finish that sentence!" She almost bit his head off.

Draco held his hands up in surrender, "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, perhaps this dare has got out of hand. I thought you were up for it, Hermione, you didn't tell me you didn't want to do it anymore, I thought it was fun, a bit of sexy play going on between us." 

"Let’s just rest," she sighed and placed her hand on his cheek, shivering, "it's nobody's fault. I need to rest my brain so I can come up with a plan," she began climbing the ladder to the hayloft. 

After watching her arse as she climbed the ladder with great gusto, Draco noticed a thick red and black checked flannel shirt hanging on an iron hook, he grabbed it and followed her. His witch was cold and snappy he wasn't about to allow her to freeze, even if they were sheltering in a bloody barnyard. He knew snappiness would be rectified by a rest and his job was to enable said nap.

In the years following the war, Hermione didn't cope too well with happenings which took her out of her comfort zone. He was truly sorry for inciting the ghostly witches and would probably have to grovel to make her believe him.

What began as a bit of sexy fun, had turned sinister rather swiftly. 

"The tomb said they were Demelza, Estrild and Petronilla Black who died in 1630.” His head popped over the top of the ladder, “How can they be buried there if they were witches from the Black line? Could they be my mother’s ancestors?" He stepped through the hay and placed the flannel shirt around her shoulders, pulling her close as they settled into the soft and rather prickly hay. 

Once they were both settled in the hayloft, she relaxed into his arms. Even though the shirt smelled of cows or sheep and a hint of some other males mildly stale sweat, she appreciated his gesture,

"Some churchyards have an un-consecrated area, you know, for suicides or non-believers. Did you see the rope marks around their necks? It makes perfect sense that they were tried as witches here in Wiltshire." 

"But how the bloody hell could they be buried here? What were they doing here? The Black family resided in London, the line has lived in the city as far back as I know, I just don't understand, only Malfoy's lived in Wiltshire," Draco nuzzled her neck. 

"We'll figure it out," she murmured sleepily, letting out a light snore as she dozed.

He hated this. Life had been hard enough for them when they'd got together, but a few years down the line Potter and Weasley had come to terms with the fact their drunken meeting in the Leakey Cauldron had become a full-blown love affair and turned something more permanent.

They'd become a formidable partnership with a hint of fun he'd never experienced with a witch before. The Wizarding world hadn't liked it, and he hated that for her but the selfish part of him couldn't let her go now he had her. Anyway, she took it all in her stride, berating anyone who pissed her off.

Sitting back against a hay bale he nodded off, pulling his ripped cloak across them both. 

Draco twitched as he dreamed.

_Draco battled through a dreamy fog. He was in a room with his mother as she taught him their family history._

_He was bored and barely listening, thinking of the tasty cakes the elves might provide for high tea. He hoped for macaroons or those little Victoria sponges they made._

_His tiny legs swung under the chair and he began kicking the leg of the desk in the Malfoy classroom beside the library. It was at times like this he wished his tutor were present, mothers lessons were always so boring, always on about family history or pureblood customs._

_Mother tapped her wand on the desk to regain his attention._

_"In the year 1629, the three sisters disappeared, beginning with the youngest, Demelza, who was fourteen. Her elder sisters Estrild and Petronilla followed suit soon after, leaving a note for their parents but none were ever seen again._

_It is something the family do not speak of, but I use this as a warning, my dragon, you should never leave your parents, they know what is best. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes mother."_

Sitting up with a start, he looked at Hermione. 

"Darling, wake up," he nudged her with his elbow. 

"Wha-where are we?" she pulled out a lump of hay from her hair and stared at it with an unfocussed gaze.

"I've remembered something." 

"Oh, I do hope so, I'd like to sleep in my own bed at some point tonight," she sat up, looking far more perky than she had an hour ago. 

"My mother gave me these lessons as a child, tutoring me in Malfoy history but also her family too. I remembered her once talking about three sisters who disappeared in the 1600's, vanished without a trace, which I tell you is pretty strange in the Wizarding world." 

"Hmm, I agree, someone in the Ministry would have been able to trace a magical signature if their wands were used, even back then." Hermione agreed. 

"Unless they didn't use their wands afterwards? Perhaps they decided they wanted to live like muggles?" Draco surmised, tapping his lip with his forefinger. 

"Then why were they hanged as witches? I admit, anyone who wasn't overtly pious at the time was likely to be deemed a witch by muggles, so either they were incredibly naive to the ways of the church at the time or they were practicing and they were caught." 

Draco scrubbed his face with his hand, "Whatever happened, I don't like the idea of muggles killing them for it—fucking savages." 

Hermione couldn't disagree, the amount of people hanged or burned as witches during the times of the Inquisition made her feel sick too. Muggles had their fair share of good people and evil, as did the Wizarding world. 

"The book I was reading, A Local History of Dinton, told of a famous witch, in muggle terms, who was hanged in the area in 1653. Anne Bodenham was someone called a cunning woman, or practicer of magic. Perhaps she was someone we might describe as a magical woman who wasn't invited to Hogwarts for whatever reason, but I don't remember anyone called by those names being included in the book. However, hangings occurred in England from the 1500's until the last in 1717. You and I know the Wizarding world had a hand in the muggle world back then, so it’s rather odd if it’s true." 

"My father’s namesake was alive during the 1600's," Draco mused, "and he attempted to court the muggle queen Elizabeth I. Obviously he failed but I very much doubt that woman was a virgin upon her death," he chuckled, "nor were most of her ladies in waiting.

"Exactly," Hermione agreed, rolling her eyes. "Wizards and Witches weren't as absent in the muggle world as we thought. We know the Manor is close but let's not get ahead of ourselves, it's more likely that young witch ran off with a muggle man, she seemed to be a connoisseur of good looking men," she tutted at Draco. 

"And a Malfoy man wasn't good looking back then?" He shook his head with a huffed laugh, "I think my perfection has been a constant for almost a thousand years, or so I've been told." 

"Godrick, you're so narcissistic sometimes." 

"But you love me," he grinned. "So, what now?" 

A huffing breath left her, "You'll have to speak to them." 

"What? Why me?" 

"Draco, do you really need to ask me why? Because you're part of their family line. They already think I'm some knicker-less wench whom you deflowered." 

He ruffled his hair angrily, "Alright. Then what am I supposed to say to them? Ooh, dearest great-a million-aunts, I do apologise for turning up and shagging the woman I want to be my wife on your grave, I had no idea you'd been hanging around for three hundred years, waiting to get back at me for getting my end away." 

"Don't be crass, Draco, and if that's what you think it is, getting your end away...Oh."

He strode to cup her cheek on his hand. 

"I wondered when you'd catch that part," he titled her head and kissed her deeply. 

"Hmmph," she dragged her lips away, blushing, "I want that so much, but we must deal with this first."

"You know I love you and I'd do anything for you, but your sense of the important leaves a lot to be desired.” He stood, “Regardless, let's get going so I can do this properly," he took her hand, turned it and kissed the soft skin of her wrist. 

"Alright," she gushed.

Hermione had never thought herself as a girl who gushed but, in that moment, she was almost swooning. 

He took her hand and led her to the ladder, "After you, my love." 

"I can't promise I won't be looking at your arse as you climb down," she winked as her foot dropped to the top rung. 

"And I can't promise I won't be looking down your delectable cleavage," he chuckled. 

"I was banking on it," she bit her lip. 

......

They walked hand in hand back towards the churchyard, both silent, both pondering their earlier words. 

"In answer to your question, you should tell them the truth and remember they can't harm you. I never thought I'd run away from ghosts, not after the ones we experienced at Hogwarts. I'm not afraid while I'm with you either, I know what it's like to spend time in fear and perhaps they know it too, it's why they can't rest, Draco. Perhaps they need someone from their family to say it's okay to leave this plane." She ran her fingers across his cheek, "You're so much more than the cantankerous sod you profess to be, I see a side of you that is kind and benevolent and far more family orientated than you're given credit for. Can you imagine how happy you'd make your mother if she found out you'd done this?" 

"Hmm," he groaned, hating his softer side to be outed like this. Only she knew him that way, though he loved her for it.

Lightening flashed and winds blew back their hair as they reached the graveyard.

A scrap of Draco's cloak fluttered as they approached, clinging to the rock of the wall as he slung his leg over the same place they'd escaped. He removed his cloak and smoothed down his wrinkled clothes. 

"Stay here and don't enter unless I tell you," he yelled over the hurricane like noise. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Alright, for once I'll trust you." 

"I hope you do," he grasped her by the back of the neck and smashed his lips on hers. 

....

"He's here, he's come back to suffer," Demelza cried woefully. 

The witches cackled, swooping around the graves, and following Draco as he walked towards their tomb. 

"End him, Petronilla, pluck out his liver and we'll roast it on the fire," Estrild roared. 

He turned and headed towards the wailing harpies he now knew as his own ancestors.

They flew towards him, raging as they passed through his body. He gasped feeling their vengeance but nothing more. 

"Wait, this isn't why I'm here, I'm here to talk to you, so for Merlin’s sake will you shut up!" Draco shouted. 

"He looks like Lucius, so pretty," Demelza crooned. 

"That's why I'm here, I want to explain but you need to understand how long you’ve been dead."

He watched them huddle together, whispering and arguing from what he could see.

"You're Lucius's son," Petronilla, shrieked at him.

"Yes, err, but not in the way you think. Three hundred years have passed, I'm the son of someone who was probably as much a git as the Lucius you knew was, a man who wrecked the lives of everyone around him by making the wrong choices," he admitted, watching them in their conflagration. 

"He's right, you know," Hermione watched Draco purse his lips in annoyance as she approached, "he's going to be my husband," she clasped his hand, "he's a good man."

"No man is a good man!" Petronilla screamed in their faces, causing them to leap back and hug one another tightly. 

"Draco is and I won't have you tell me otherwise!" Hermione screamed back.

The witches seemed taken aback by her reaction.

"A strong witch, she is not one to trifle with," Estrild nodded with some esteem directed at the trembling Hermione. 

"Do not listen to her, she is no more than a gouty legged strumpet." Petronilla sniped, her eyes boring into Hermione's. 

"Enough!" Draco stood rigid, his body screaming with ire, "you do not speak of Hermione in that way!"

"I will call out your ditch-whore as such!" The Bellatrix-esque witch hollered. 

"Draco, you say?" Estrild moved a little closer, "there was a cousin of mothers namest Draco, she always spoke so fondly of him," she placed a hand on her elder sisters’ arm and it drifted through a spectral fog. 

"Petronilla, dearest sister, can'st it be that we have wronged the boy? The way in which they stand for each other, t’is so romantic," Demelza swooned. 

"Ugh! How can you be so forgiving of the male sex after what was? T'was men who placed the noose around your neck, men with their religious ideologies who snuffed out your life, stole your wand and you took me and Estrild along'st with you!" 

The previously mild tempered Demelza’ s aura began to glow red, "I'm so unwilling to hear you speaketh once more, do you not know how terrible it has been to spend an eternity with thou, when all thou has't done is bleet!" Demelza made a sound like a sheep. 

"Ladies, ladies, please hear me out," Draco took a tiny step forward, admittedly a bit terrified when they all turned and stared at him. He gulped and began to talk once more, "I am Draco Malfoy, I believe my mother was of your line and the year is two thousand and one." 

Petronilla moved inches from his face, "A Malfoy, yes, one of those who refused high born pureblood witches assistance when we made a request to return home. Lucius Malfoy was a copper nosed, gouty legged polecat!" 

"Does't the apple fall far from the tree, me wonders?" Estrild asked with a raised eyebrow, "he wears the robes of a daemon after all, he hast the blood of a virgin on his lips." 

"I do not! It's fake!" Draco exclaimed.

"Blood is blood, boy!" Petronilla growled. 

"Never a truer word spoken," Hermione muttered sardonically.

"Not helping," Draco hissed through the corner of his mouth. 

"I can'st, " Hermione swiftly corrected herself, "I can vouch for the fact Draco is no demon and he would never allow that to happen to ladies, um, of such pure blood as yourselves," she closed her eyes, expecting a tirade but received none. She opened one eye and watched them discuss her statement. 

"Err, if I could explain what we think we know about you, then perhaps we could help you, err, move on from your..." Draco cast his arm out over the tomb, "current situation." 

They peered at him once more and then turned to begin making gestures and whispering unintelligibly between themselves. 

"Will you," Hermione began gently, "will you tell us your story, t-tell us what happened for you to end up here?" She was nervous of their reaction and her teeth were almost chattering. 

Draco moved to put an arm around her shoulder and Petronilla turned to snap at him.

"Do not defile the girl, we be watching you!" 

Draco felt like the witch’s eyes bored into his soul and dropped his arm immediately like a chastened child.

Fuck. Even his father wasn't as scary as this lot. 

Elstrid ventured forward, "We find ourselves most willing to tell you of our burdens and we would'st inquire more about your mother." 

"Yes, that would be, err, agreeable," Draco leaned a hand on their tomb, quickly removing it as their eyes followed his movement. Brushing his hands off, he began to talk, "Please excuse my frankness but Hermione read a story of some witches who were hanged at Dinton for witchcraft. Clearly, I know you belonged in the Wizarding world, especially if you were of my mother’s line—" 

"And your mother’s name, boy?" Petronilla requested almost politely. 

"Narcissa Black," he replied. 

"T'is Grandmothers name," Demelza giggled and was hushed by the others who looked on approvingly. "She would be proud to know another in her family line was named so."

Draco felt relieved that things were going well so far.

"She married my father, named after the infamous Malfoy Wizard you described. Times haven't changed much, he was a foolish man who made the wrong choices, much like you say the Lucius of your time did. Instead of keeping three young witches in danger, he put me and my mother in danger by joining with a dark wizard. But, that said, my mother is a kind soul, though she had one sister who was evil, deeply evil and she hurt someone I love with all I am," he took Hermione's hand and pulled it to his chest for a moment before kissing her fingers and releasing her hand.

Petronilla glanced at Demelza apologetically, her aura changing to pink. 

"She had another sister who married a muggle and my father’s pureblood ideology drove my mother to break contact with her because she was deemed a pureblood traitor," he continued, noticing them all give each other a look of horror. 

"Mother and father would have allowed us home, they would never have said such things," Demelza said in a tiny voice, "would they not?" 

"Dearest one, thou were so innocent in the ways of this world, when'st you ran away, we came to protect you, as thou are precious to us, so precious." Petronilla spoke.

Elstrid echoed her sentiments and they gathered in a group hug once more. 

Hermione found her lower lip wobbling at the emotional scene, stepping behind Draco to hide her face and laying her head between his shoulder blades. He snuck his hand behind his back to squeeze hers. She was now less afraid of the one who looked like the witch who had tortured her in Malfoy Manor. 

"We could not return," Elstrid came forward, "things in those times were the same for us. Our sister ran to be with a muggle and we followed, unbeknownst that we would be exiled, cast out from our beloved," she sobbed. "You say your father was not a good man but how can we trust he has not passed his vile character to you?" 

Draco cautiously stepped forward as he replied, "You can trust me because I know the difference now between right and wrong, my Hermione is a muggleborn witch," he began grinning as they moved to Hermione, the long tendrils of their ghostly fingers caressing her skin like she was the first anomaly they had ever seen, "the brightest witch of her age, a witch who left Hogwarts with top marks, a war heroine who was integral in freeing the Wizarding world from a tyrant. Do you now see why I love her, why I adore the very bones of her?" 

Demelza came forward to touch his face, it felt so cold but so warm at once.

"Thou are a good man, a man who sees beyond beauty, a man who admires a witches mind, t'is such a wonderful curiosity. You are to marry your Hermione?" She queried. 

"If I was sure this perfect witch would have me, I would ask her now," he glanced at Hermione, who had wide eyes on the hovering witch beside them.

"The muggle I left home for was a farmer who'dst come to muggle London for seed, Godrick he was such a beauty, he took'est my breath, my heart and my..."

"Demelza Black!" Petronilla said sourly, "do not tell him of your lack of virtue.” 

Hermione stifled a giggle with her hand. 

"I found he was married when I arrived here, I was not old enough to apparate, so I rode in a muggle coach," she let out a sob, "when'st I arrived, I found the arrant knave wed ten long years with six children and I was thrown in the gutter by his hedge-whore wife," she wept. 

"You wed your girl now, not when the time is right, if thou'st in love then thou'st must be one," Demelza nodded staring woefully at them both. "I found dwellings with the Priest and his wife, she was a lovely woman, until she saw my sisters apparate here. Father Bamptom was so kind until she poisoned his mind against me. We moved to the woods to live in peace for a time but..." 

"I sent an owl home," Estrild interrupted, "father said we should not return, we had ruined our reputations as eligible pureblood witches, he told us we could rot."

"I am over three hundred years old, did you not think I could be privy to the truth? I want to go home, I don't care what they spoketh! I will rest there, I knowest it!" Demelza cried.

"Less of your stupidity, girl. You have'st heard our tale of woe, my sisters and I were sought out and hanged for witches because we were aliens to the town, treated in the worst way, I will spare you the details. What may be your plan for us, boy?" Petronilla demanded in her brusque way. She seemed far less scary now they had seen her softer side. 

Demelza and Estrild smiled at one another. 

Draco scratched his head and gave Hermione a look, he nodded and turned back, it was as if they both knew the answer, even without Legimency. 

"With your permission, I would exhume your bones and have them interred in the Black burial vault in London. Then I believe you could rest if that's what you truly want." 

"To go home to mother and father, I would give anything," Demelza gushed, forgetting her tears and Estrild’ s story. 

Hermione moved to Draco's side.

"And what does't the brightest witch of her age think of this plot?" Petronilla floated before Hermione. 

"I know this will sound twee, but you should listen to your heart," she tentatively reached out to find her hand drift through mist where the witches heart might be, "Ahem," she cleared her throat, "You know things have changed, people, um, muggles are not like that anymore, if they think you're a witch you're more likely to get them asking you to make them a veggie smoothie, " Hermione chuckled. 

Petronilla frowned, "Muggles are..." she had the grace not to finish the sentence. 

"Quite." Hermione gave her a wry smile, "Most are good when you get to know them. Your experience was bad, I know that, but there's not much of a difference between muggles and wizards, the only difference is magic."

"Blood is blood," Petronilla repeated her earlier sentiment. "Tell the Malfoy boy he may do as he suggested," she turned and floated away towards her sisters. 

"Thank you, Hermione, Master Draco," Estrild nodded following her sister. 

“Lord Malfoy,” Draco muttered under his breath, feeling it was an appropriate time to mention his title. It fell on deaf ears.

Demelza came forth, "I'm intrigued by this world; I feel I have not had'st the opportunity to learn anything. All I can say is't you both will make beautiful babies I wish I would see, lovely witch," Demelza reached for Hermione's face, her hand brushing through it gently. "My favourite brother was called Scorpius, though I know not what happened to him." Her face dropped, "You have seen my beloved sisters," she sighed, "I once wished for a husband and babies, please, I beg you to remember me, remember us." 

Tears filled Hermione's eyes when she felt the gentleness of the poor girl who'd been ruined and hadn't the time to live a full life.

"Tell him, tell Draco as he needs to know someone is on his side, he knows I am proud of what I know of him, but he needs to be told he's a good man."

Hermione blew the sweetest of the witches a kiss as she returned to speak her last peace with Draco.

The sun made its presence known as the moon dipped as its opposite, casting shadows over the farmland behind them and Hermione moved to watch it rise and contemplate the witches words.

…

"I'm knackered," Draco slid his hands around Hermione’s waist a while later and pulled her into his chest as they watched the sun move higher over the horizon. 

"Me too, but I fancy a bacon and egg sarnie," she chewed on her lip as his fingers massaged her rib cage. 

"Do you know what I fancy?" He replied. 

"Merlin, don't even say it, I know what you're going to say, you pervert," she elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ooff! So violent," he laughed, turning her and walking her to the tomb of his distant aunts and placing a respectful hand on the tomb, "I'm not going to tell you what Demelza said, if that's what you're wondering." 

"Spoilsport," Hermione slapped his arm as they walked towards the cemetery gates. 

"Morning! Looks like it was a good night!" A man walking his cockerpoo waved from across the road.

They bid him good morning and he continued along the road.

"Are you still wearing that underwear?" Draco's breath drifted across her ear as he grabbed a handful of her arse.

"Yes, and a happy All Saints day to you sir!" She yipped at the man as he walked into the distance.

The man turned, shook his head with a grin and headed down the street.

"How's the dare going? I'm not sure you've fulfilled it, Miss 'hello sir, happy All Saints day,'" he mimicked. 

"Do you want another slap?" She rolled her eyes. 

"Always, darling," he kissed the tip of her head with a smirk. 

.....

"No, no, no! I want food, I need food!" Hermione begged as he threw her over his shoulder and took the stairs two at a time. 

"After," he lifted her dress and slapped her arse, "I want you, need you after tonight. Life is fucking short love, haven't you learned anything?" 

"Dracooo!" She shrieked, giggling as he threw her on the bed and pulled at her thin dress, ripping it right down the middle. It took several tugs until she was a writhing mess of laughter and hysteria. 

He swung off his ripped cloak, casting it aside and tugged at his waistcoat, ripping off the buttons so they scattered across the room. 

"You're not doing it fast enough, God save Merlin this isn't a strip club, get your kit off, now! In fact, no, I'm going to do it for you right now—Evanseco!" She rid him of his clothes and lay back on the bed, propped up on the pillows, looking like the cat who got the cream as she bit her lip as she surveyed his hot, tight body. 

"Oh yeah? Do you think you're something special you naughty girl, do you think I couldn't do the same if I wanted to?" He repeated the spell, jumped onto the bed on his knees and began tickling her ribs as she screamed with laughter, "I, fucking, love you like this, Granger!" He said breathlessly as he fell on the bed beside her, "I love you all the time. I never thought—I didn't think it would take some ghostly ancestors to push me to ask you something I've always wanted to ask you." 

"Hush, ask me after," she placed her forefinger over his lips, "make love to me now, I've waited long enough to demand it," she said gently, cupping his face trailing the tops of her fingers across his brow, his eyelids fluttered, "let's forget these dares and admit things have changed, Draco, I want you for yourself. I've never loved you more than I do right now." 

Gunmetal eyes met bronze with flecks of cinnamon, "After, then," he let out breathlessly, "after I fuck you into the mattress," he grinned and jumped on her, her giggles settling into breathy moans as he bit her neck like a vampire. “Maybe I should spread your legs and eat your pussy?”

“Mmm, yes, then after I want to straddle your cock and shag your brains out.” She replied mewling as he dove down between her legs. “Oh, Godrick, please, Draco!”

She wanted him everywhere at once, his teeth against the sensitive skin of her neck, biting down and suckling her flesh, her nipples. A spasm ripped through her as his tongue invaded her pussy. Her mind became foggy and all she could think of was him and his tongue, his talented fingers stroking her in just the right place.

Fuck he loved her, loved the way she brought out his dominant side, how he could fuck her hard and fast or slow and steady or whichever way he chose she would shatter into tiny pieces.

He pinned her down by her wrists, taking hold of the tender skin of her neck and slammed his cock into her, feeling it glide through her folds like silk over steel.

Her head lolled to one side as she swiftly chased her first orgasm with another, almost unable to process the pleasure.

“You’re mine,” he demanded as he angled his cock to hit the spot inside her he knew would send her crazy, “say it!”

Following their years together, he knew exactly what to say to her and when to say it.

“Please, y-yes, I’m yours, only yours,” she met his hips with her own as she spiralled into another bought of ecstasy.

Draco trust his cock deep inside of her, feeling her stretch out around his girth, he felt her trembling as he rocked into her, moving his hand to fondle her clit.

“You’re my plaything now aren’t you Granger? Only mine,”

Her eyes rolled back as he pushed her towards her third climax of the night. Time would tell if he could wring another out of her.

Grasping her throat with one hand, he moved her and angled their bodies, moving behind her with Hermione on her side. He lifted her leg and slammed back into her, his position perfect to watch every twitch, every bounce of her tits, every moan, every indication of pleasure that crossed her features. His favourite position.

“Tell me you want my cock, that it’s the only cock you’ll ever want,” Draco, as vocal as ever, wasn’t quite sure she heard him as she let out a long moan of delight. He was a possessive bastard and he wanted to hear her say she was his, only his.

“Please, Draco, please, I can’t take much more,” she wailed as he tried to wrench one last orgasm from her, biting and lathing her neck and watching her convulse.

“I’m going to fill you with my thick, hot come and then fuck you some more. Every inch of my cock is going to pound you into submission, Granger.”

The one thing about Draco Malfoy was he never did things in half measures, especially when his witch was so damn delectable with every delicious sound she made. He knew his dirty talk drove her wild, it had been proven a hundred times or more. His dick bottomed out, his arm around her waist pulling her closer, so her back was to his chest.

Hermione let out a shriek as he ground his hips into her, his exquisite cock hitting every sensitive spot inside her, making her legs tremble so much she almost lost sensation.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted over and over as he filled her time and time again.

As he felt his balls tighten, he fucked her like a wild animal, his hand cupping her jaw as he watched her soar into the stratosphere.

Hermione felt like she was transcending to another place entirely, somewhere where the only scent was him and the smell of their sex, the only feeling was him pounding her cunt. Her ears were muffled and her mind shorted out. Someone was screaming and she barely registered it was her. She came so hard it was like an out of body experience and came around as aftershocks raced through every part of her. This was what this wizard did to her, he blew her mind with how well he could play her body.

“Let me fill you up, my witch, oh, fuck, you’re mine….” Draco let out a loud moan and did exactly as he’d said, filling her and relishing the way her pussy squeezed his cock.

Silence descended, the room filled with pants and gasps.

Hermione spoke first.

“That was—I don’t think there are the words to describe how amazing that was,” she said breathlessly.

“Definitely worth the wait,” he kissed her gently, pulling her into his arms; a contrast to the heavy pounding he’d given her, “though I missed out on removing your stockings and slinky dress with my rabid teeth.”

She turned over to face him, running her thumb over his pouting lower lip, her hair splayed out on the pillow around her and her chest blush pink from their exertion.

“I’ll let you into a little secret, Mr Malfoy,” she whispered in his ear, “I’ve got a whole drawer filled with brand new sexy lingerie for us to try,” she giggled at his loving smirk.

“Well, we can start on that when you answer this question,” he kissed the tip of her nose and entwined her fingers with his, “what do you say about having Nott remove that drunken vow we made so we can renew it with another?”

He looked so earnest, so nervous, so unlike himself, she wanted to tease him but held back.

“What vow might that be?” She raised an eyebrow, reaching out to stroke the fine hair at the nape of his neck.

“I think you know which one I mean, they don’t call you the brightest witch of our age for nothing,” he was almost purring under her touch.

“If that’s a proposal, then my answer is yes, of course it was always going to be yes,” she murmured, kissing his soft lips.

Draco never ceased to be amazed at how gentle they were with each other in moments such as these but how they bickered heartily, challenged each other intellectually and fucked so brutally.

“Thank you, you’ve made me happier than I ever imagined,” he pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin as he caressed her back, “you are perfect, so perfect I sometimes want to pinch myself.”

They lay together for a few more moments until Hermione pitched his arse hard, giggling as she wriggled away, daring him to catch her as she raced through the house laughing.

“I dare you to come and get me!”

“And if I won’t capture you?” He called from the top of the stairs, stark naked.

“Then you’ll be the one dancing naked in the market square while I can still have it!” She hollered back at him.

Draco waited a moment before running after the naughty witch. If this was how life was going to be then he would happily venture out year on year dressed in whatever she bloody well wanted, or dance with only a Hogwarts tie around his neck in the square, because all he wanted was her.


End file.
